


Found You

by Kateera



Category: Ella Enchanted (2004), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, Valhalla Rising
Genre: First Time, Hannibal Extended Universe, M/M, Rescue, Soul Bond, Valhalla Enchanted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-04 16:22:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10283015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kateera/pseuds/Kateera
Summary: Prince Charmont was born without a soul mark and hidden from his kingdom to keep the shame a secret. When his parents send him away on a diplomatic mission, he's forced to watch a man fight for his life and is inexplicably drawn to the silent warrior. He has to meet him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> You don't understand. This started out as a cute one-shot with barely a plot behind the porn and now its a soul-mate AU with sweet emotional moments and it's begging for a sequel! Anyway, this is late for Valhalla Enchanted week but I don't care.   
> Have fun everyone and as always, please comment because I'm pretty sure the comments keep the monsters under my bed from starving.   
> Special thanks to my beta readers, [Llewcie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Llewcie/pseuds/Llewcie) and [Raindrop150](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Raindrop150) You people rock.

**In the Kingdom of Emir**

 

_ Born to King Lucas and Queen Fiona, Prince Charmont was welcomed to the kingdom of Emir with a week long celebration and much feasting. While Emir revelled in the birth of the young prince, the king and queen struggled with a secret. A secret that haunted their dreams. The birth of Charmont was tainted by the realization that their son bore no soul mark. The midwives inspected him thoroughly but not a single word adorned the newborn’s pink skin.  _

_ Unmarked children were anathema, cursed with a life devoid of love and companionship. Most went mad, unable to cope, angry at the world, and violent. _

_ Much to their devastation, Queen Fiona wasn’t strong enough to even consider conceiving a second child and so King Lucas made a difficult decision. His son would not be banished. They would keep his lack of soul mark a secret, and Charmont would still know his parents’ love. They would shelter him from the kingdom’s people and pray for mercy against the madness. Surely that would be enough. _

  
  


**23 YEARS LATER**

  
  


As a visiting prince in a neighboring country, Charmont thought boring feasts and long-winded speeches were all he had to worry about. According to his parents, these diplomatic missions were essential to his growth as a leader. While Charmont’s temperament worked to his advantage, he found the pomp and ceremony of each visit tiresome. Boredom turned to horror however, as the brutality of the country his father sought an alliance with became clear. Currently Charmont was seated next to King Darrick, the boisterous Monarch of Mearen, while the night’s entertainment was led into the room. Battered men in ragged loincloths were being paraded in front of them like show ponies. Charmont felt panic flutter in his gut. As the line of men arranged themselves on around the room, two guards brought up the rear, dragging someone behind them by a long pole.He was covered in the same tattoos that all the men seemed to share and while he wore the same thin rags as the others, his body carried grisly scars from his face to the backs of his legs.  The scar on his face extended through his left eye, leaving only a mass of wrinkled flesh in its place. Three more guards joined their companions and led the large man to the thick pole standing in the middle of the room, looping the attached chain through the collar on his neck. A shiver moved down Charmont’s spine as he watched the proceedings, his brain blocking out the cheering and clapping around him. Something buried deep inside the young prince stirred to the surface at the sight of the large glaring man. He wanted to reach out and rip that collar off with his bare hands. Glancing at King Darrick, Charmont bit his cheek till it bled and kept his silence; any protests he made would fall under signs of weakness and could cost his father the strategic alliance. Logic and reason didn't make it any easier to sit and watch. The barbaric fights started with one on one battles but soon the court was throwing three and four men teams at the chained fighter. He won, every battle bloodier and more chaotic than the last. Whatever wounds the chained man might have received, he hid his injuries well and never faltered.  As the last challenger fell to the blood coated flood, the chained warrior turned to where King Darrick sat and glared in silent hatred at the gleeful man.

 

“The brute wins again!” King Darrick shouted and the crowd erupted in more cheers. 

 

Charmont gnawed his bloody cheek raw but did not reveal the rage roiling under his skin. He turned and watched the battered and bloody man as he was unchained and dragged away from the feast room. 

 

“I want to meet him,” Charmont said, immediately flinching at the forcefulness behind his words, anger boosting his normal placid tones. 

 

To his relief, the king mistook the tone for eagerness and laughed before calling one of the guards over. “Please take our guest to One-Eye’s quarters. He wants to meet our famous pit fighter.”

 

Charmont didn’t correct him; he didn’t care what the king thought so long as his wish was granted. Following the guard through the corridors and down flights of stairs, Charmont grimaced as they entered a dark humid dungeon. Past the entrance, the moans and whimpers of caged men echoed through stone walls and into Charmont’s already raging heart. All signs of his feigned serenity disappeared. It was easy to crack the guard across the head with his sword, catching the heavy man before his body hit the floor and alerted any other guards to his presence. With the guard disposed of in a dark corner, Charmont took off down the hall of cells; peering into each small room for the pit fighter.

 

_ What the fuck am I doing? _

 

The phrase repeated in his head as each cell held further proof the kingdom’s cruelty. Men covered in sores and flea-ridden rags huddled in damp corners, coughing and whimpering for help as he passed them by in his search. His heart ached for their plight but he kept moving; they would slow him down and the ache was nothing compared to the scream in his soul for the battered warrior. He owed nothing to this man and he wasn’t even sure if the man would appreciate his efforts, and being caught meant disgrace while succeeding meant being on the run, but he had to try. The last cell on the left held the man Charmont was risking his life and kingdom for. The man sat with his back against a corner and his head hanging between his legs, still dripping blood onto the straw covered stone.  .

 

Charmont held his breath as he approached the cell; his heart hammered in his chest as he took in the sight of the man still alive.Wrapping his hands around the iron bars, he leaned forward and called quietly across the space separating them.

 

“Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

 

The man looked up and stared at Charmont with his one good eye. Charmont felt a flood of warmth coat his entire body as he looked into the man’s face.

 

"Can you stand? Can you walk? We might have to fight but I'm hoping we can get out of here without alerting the guards,” Charmont said, as he stepped back to examine the door barring entrance to the man’s cell.  “Oh hell, I forgot to grab the key. Hold on, I'll be right back. I promise." Charmont knew he was rambling but he couldn't stop the words tumbling out of his mouth as that face stared at him in silent curiosity. 

 

He'd never been drawn to another person like this before and the experience left him stumbling. Tripping slightly as he ran to find a key, Charmont caught himself on the wall and felt his whole body blush at his clumsiness. He dared a glance back at the caged man but the warrior's eye was closed and he'd returned to his slouched position. With time running out before they were caught, Charmont raced to the guard station and grabbed the set of keys off the wall. Heart pounding and chest heaving, he returned to the cell and opened the door with trembling fingers. He didn't know what was wrong with him or why he felt so drawn to the large scarred warrior. The only thought in Charmont's brain centered on getting both of them out of the dungeon and out of the kingdom as fast as possible. 

 

"Alright, let’s go," Charmont whispered, waving the man forward. 

 

The warrior stood and looked at Charmont with disbelief. His hands clenching at his sides while he stepped out of the cramped cell. 

 

"What? You didn't think I'd come back?" Charmont asked.

 

A shake of his head was all the warrior gave but Charmont still felt a wave of emotion in the gesture and reached for the man. His touch was only a light pat on the arm but still the large man flinched at the contact. Charmont pulled back his hand with guilty swiftness.

 

"Sorry," the prince said with downcast eyes, "I'll just figure a way out of this horror show."

 

A quick search of the guard station provided more clothing for the fighter as well as a way out of the dungeon and Charmont shot the silent man a grin of relief when they discovered the secret passage hidden behind a gaudy tapestry.

 

"Perfect!" Charmont exclaimed. "You go first."

 

His escape partner shook his head and pointed towards the exit; waving Charmont forward. 

 

There wasn't time for an argument.  Charmont ducked into the small opening as the sounds of boots clanking down stone steps reached his ears. They sped down the narrow passageway as quiet as possible while Charmont choked on the fear of being found and brought before his father in disgrace, or worse, dead. 

 

_ What is the matter with me? Why am I fucking doing this? _

 

Having no answers to the layers of doubt, Charmont pressed forward in the darkness until the tunnel abruptly ended in a small ledge on a cliffside . He stepped forward and looked down. The water below flowed black in the silence of night; stars peeked out behind a curtain of clouds and shone their dim light across a sleeping countryside. He felt the presence of the rescued warrior behind him and Charmont shivered. He blamed the chill of the night rather than the thrill of being so close to the man who held him enthralled. 

 

"I don't see any way down other than to jump," Charmont said, his voice soft against the open air.

 

The silent warrior reached the same conclusion. Without warning, the large man wrapped his arms firmly around Charmont and pushed them off the small ledge and into the waiting river. Charmont clung to the larger man and braced for impact. He hit the water, the shock of the impact knocking the breath from his body.The icy water enveloped him and attempted to drag him down. He fought against it, clinging to the fighter and propelling himself up. The two men gasped for air as they broke through the surface. Charmont let the warrior pull them to the edge of the river with long strokes, marveling at the man's endless supply of strength. 

 

As his teeth chattered against his lips, Charmont pulled himself up out of the river and sprawled in the thick grass. The crushing weight of his impulsive action fell on Charmont like a roof collapsing onto his chest. The aftermath of his decision loomed in front of him and he felt panic clutching at his heart. Looking over at the man he rescued, the prince steadied his breathing and rolled to his feet. He'd gone through the rescue mission; he wasn't about to watch it fail now. 

 

"We need to move, find shelter, and try to get warm before we get sick." Charmont focused on the immediate problems, shoving his fear and panic back into their box for now. 

 

The free fighter stood and took off through the grass, Charmont close on his heels as they put distance between the king and his brutal court. Again Charmont felt a sense of awe as he watched the older warrior run; there seemed to be no end to the strength and endurance of the man. The grass ended and the forest began. Trees darkened their path and hid them from any search party and the warrior slowed, his eye searching for something among the brush and branches. 

 

"What's out there?" Charmont asked but the man said nothing, merely gestured towards a group of trees and then led them away from the path and into the deep forest. 

 

Charmont received his answer when they emerged from the forest and his eyes fell on a small cottage tucked into a small meadow with a tiny stream running along the edge. The cottage looked abandoned with vines growing up the walls and a sagging sod roof.

 

"You knew this was out here? What if they know it's where we went?" 

 

The older man shook his head and gave Charmont a small pat on the back before heading to the house. Charmont stared after the man; his body tingled in warm delight at the small touch of reassurance. He watched the older man walk confidently up to the house and enter without knocking; Charmont clutched his wet jacket tighter around his body and followed. The cottage, more a run-down shack, seemed even smaller on the inside, and every surface held a thick layer of dust. Charmont stood in the doorway and shivered as the other man threw wood into the fireplace, starting a much needed fire. Watching the older man work, Charmont let his eyes roam over the man's form, lingering on his long back and shapely ass. The man turned his head and Charmont blushed at being caught. The older man stood up and Charmont backed away until he hit a wall.

 

"I'm, I'm just -"

 

Looking into the man's intense gaze, Charmont felt heat pool in his groin and whimpered as he slid down the wall to sit on the floor with his head between his legs.

 

"This is a disaster. I risked everything for someone I don't even know and my father is going to lose this alliance and King Darrick is going to ask for my head. What is the matter with me? You can't even answer me and I don't know why, so this is just a giant cluster fuck of impulsively bad decisions and now I'm in this tiny house with you and you're scary but nice and I don't have any idea what I'm doing!"

 

The older man knelt down and put his hand beneath Charmont's chin,  lifting the young prince's head. He pointed to his throat and then made a slashing motion and shook his head. 

 

"You can't talk at all?" Charmont whispered.

 

The man nodded and Charmont reached out without thought to place his palm against the scarred man's cheek. "So I'll never know your name?"

 

The older man kept his hand around Charmont's chin and frowned. Using his other hand, he reached out and drew a finger along the dusty floor. Charmont watched as letters formed in the layer of dust.

 

Einar.

 

Looking back at the older man's face, Charmont smiled. "Hi, I'm Charmont."

 

The silent warrior returned his smile and traced the line of the younger man's jaw, the touch so gentle Charmont felt a strange urge to cry. The man in front of him was a stranger, scarred and dangerous but Charmont felt an indescribable pull towards him. Einar was the most beautiful person he'd ever seen.

 

His hands shook and his heart raced; Charmont shook with the force of emotion flooding his senses. "Why am I doing this? Why did I risk everything?"

 

Einar stood up and Charmont felt the cold of his wet clothes return. The older man pulled off his shirt and motioned for Charmont to follow his lead, laying the wet cloth over a chair next to the fire. Charmont took off his overcoat and shirt and followed Einar's lead, laying the wet clothes near the fire and wrapping his arms around himself as his bare skin felt the cool air. Einar reached out and brushed Charmont's drying curls away from his face. Taking Charmont's hand in his own, Einar turned around and brought the other man's hand down his back until fingers brushed the waistband of Einar's thin pants. Charmont tried to pull away but Einar held firm and dragged the younger man's hand across a scarred lower back. Dropping his eyes, the prince watched black oil smudge between his fingers and he furrowed his brow. He took charge of his own hand, rubbing at the stubborn smudges until he worked all the black away from the dip just above Einar's ass. Writing appeared beneath the oil and Charmont stared at the single line of text as he felt his world shift.

 

_ Come on, we’re getting out of here. _

 

A Soul Mark. His first words to the man written out on the breadth of Einar's lower back and he couldn't stop tracing the marked skin. The man in front of him shivered at his touch and Charmont pulled back with a guilty jump. 

 

"I'm sorry," he said, but Einar turned around and pressed a finger to the younger man's lips. Shaking his head, Einar drew Charmont closer and pressed his nose into the younger man's hair. Charmont felt a calm settle over him at the man's touch.

 

"Soul mate," Charmont whispered in awe.

 

Einar nodded, running his hands along the younger man's back while Charmont wrapped his arms around Einar and clung to the larger man's frame. Charmont's mind raced as he tried to reconcile the forced loneliness he'd lived in for years with this moment of pure contentment. Raising his head to look up into his soul mate's face, Charmont found the older man looking down at him; his one good eye so full of fond pleasure that Charmont's breath caught in his throat. Slow and careful, Einar lowered his mouth and pressed a soft kiss to Charmont's lips. Heat sizzled under Charmont's skin and he moaned as he deepened the kiss eagerly. His hands roamed the width and breadth of Einar's back, always finding the small line of words, his words, and running his fingers along the mark. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, Charmont threaded his fingers through Einar's hair and placed small kisses against the older man's neck and jaw. He wanted, craved, needed more skin and more kisses and more touching, more. The need must have registered with Einar because the older man pulled them towards the bed, taking a quick second to pull the dust cover off the mattress and throwing it to the floor. Urgency flowed through both of them as they fell on the bed together, limbs tangling even as their mouths clashed together again in another passionate kiss. Swinging his legs over, Charmont straddled the larger man and dragged blunt nails over Einar's arms and chest. Charmont's needy gasps and whimpers filled the silence of the cottage while Einar dragged his lips away from the smaller man's mouth to nip and suck down his pale throat.

 

"I need you," Charmont groaned and was rewarded with a thrust from Einar's pelvis.

 

The rest of their clothes fell to the floor in a flurry of movement. Charmont stopped and looked at the man beneath him in awe and desire. Einar's body held more scars than Charmont could count. Small thin silver lines ran down his hairy chest while thick stripes of puckered skin covered most of his stomach and hips. Running his hands over the marks, Charmont followed his touch with tender kisses to the older man's skin, reverence clear in each carefully placed caress. Einar shook beneath him and Charmont looked up to see tears leaving thin wet lines down his soul mate's face.

 

"Shhh," Charmont pleaded, " don't cry. You're beautiful."

 

Einar shook his head and pointed at Charmont, the wonder in his face conveying what words never would.  _ You're the beautiful one. _

 

Charmont blushed but couldn't let the warrior think he was anything less than perfect, "You're beautiful to me, Einar, and you're my soul mate so nothing will change my mind."

 

The larger man couldn't argue with him and Charmont grinned in victory before continuing his path down Einar's heavily marked body. Nervous energy swarmed beneath his skin as he reached his destination and stared in awe at the thick cock between Einar's legs. His own body throbbed at the sight but his inexperience left him unsure and at a loss on how to continue. The young prince had no practice with the practical applications of sex. He'd masturbated of course, the imposed solitude within his own court not enough to stop the normal sex drive of pubescent boy. He'd traced the harshness of Einar's life though, spelled out in scars along the man's body, and wanted to make this first true mating special for both of them. Looking up into his mate's face, Charmont took comfort in the amazed expression he found and wrapped his hand around the hard cock in front of him. Einar gasped and clutched at the blankets as Charmont worked the cock in his fist. Charmont squeezed tighter and Einar stilled the younger man’s hand, shaking his head and then nodding as Charmont loosened his grip and tried again. This time Einar panted and clutched at Charmont as pre cum pooled at the tip of his cock and dripped down the younger man's hand. Using the pre cum to slick up Einar's cock, Charmont revelled in the feel of touching another person's body and making them react to him; his hands bringing soft exhales between bitten lips. 

 

Einar stilled Charmont's hand again but this time he pulled at the younger man's arms to bring their mouths back together. Charmont draped himself across his soul mate's body, jerking slightly as his cock made contact with Einar's but moaning when Einar dragged him closer and rolled them over. Reveling in the weight of the older man settling over him, Charmont carded his fingers through thick chest hair and licked at the inside of Einar's mouth; his touch starved body greedily soaking up the attention. Einar rocked his hips against Charmont’s while he sucked on his tongue in counterpoint; the young prince clinging to him with desperate hands. Charmont reeled in overwhelming need as Einar left his mouth and traced wet kisses in a path down the unmarked planes of his chest and abdomen. In the midst of these heady feelings and emotions, the younger man felt a twinge of guilt in his gut at the bitterness he'd held against his solitary life. He'd been sheltered from his own kingdom but at least he'd had the love and protection of his parents while Einar's fight for survival had left him scarred and silent.  A frown marred the young man's face and Einar looked up with apprehension clouding his expression. Realizing that the older man read the tension in his body as dislike, Charmont shook his head quickly to reassure his mate.

 

"Please, I'm sorry," Charmont said softly, "I'm being silly and you're being wonderful."

 

Einar cocked his head and studied Charmont until the prince squirmed in embarrassment. Lowering his head to the younger man's abdomen, Einar pressed his mouth firmly against the soft flesh and blew hard. The wet sound of vibrating flesh echoed in the cottage and when Einar looked up, Charmont's mouth hung open in shock. A tremble went through the young man's body and then he was laughing and twitching and Einar smiled with smug delight.

 

"Okay, now we're both silly," Charmont said as he gasped for air and Einar nodded his agreement. 

 

Looking into the face of his soul mate, Charmont found no resentment or anger, only naked desire and a twinkle of mischief. If having a soul mate always meant this level of understanding and acceptance, Charmont could understand why those without them went mad.

 

Large hands found their way into Charmont's hair and his gasps were swallowed by Einar's lips sliding gently over his mouth. Charmont's body returned to its ravenous state of desire, his cock hard and throbbing in time with his racing heart.  Ending the kiss to gulp air into his lungs, Charmont rubbed his length along Einar's thigh and moaned when the older man reached between them and wrapped a firm hand around Charmont's cock. Einar stroked him with steady intent. 

 

"Oh fuck," Charmont whimpered, "Einar, please I need, I need -"

 

The need enveloped him but Charmont couldn't give a name to what he wanted. Instead he trusted Einar to understand and provide. Standing up from the bed, Einar walked across the room and into the kitchen. As he searched the cupboards in all his naked glory, Charmont looked his fill with shameless glee. His soul mate was made of hard muscle and soft hair and Charmont wanted to touch him forever. Einar found what he was looking for and returned to bed with a smile, letting Charmont know that he didn't mind the younger man's greedy gaze. Opening his hand, Einar showed Charmont the small bottle of oil and the prince whimpered as longing washed over him. 

 

"Yes," Charmont whined and Einar's gaze burned with barely-caged passion.

 

Settling between the young man's legs, Einar popped the cap off the oil and spread the slick liquid between his fingers. Charmont leaned back against his pillow and spread his legs in anticipation. The first touch of Einar's fingers against his opening made Charmont clench his fists and close his eyes. He felt weightless and heavy, cold and hot at the same time. Einar pressed further into him and Charmont hissed at the unfamiliar feeling.

 

"Stop stop,"he called out as he tried to relax his body and control the urge to panic.

 

Einar immediately stopped all movement and Charmont slowly let out a breath, gaining control over his initial alarm. Looking down at Einar; Charmont saw concern painted across his lover's face.

 

"I've never done this," Charmont confessed as Einar pressed kisses to his inner thighs, "but I want to."

 

The older man smiled and lifted an eyebrow.

 

Charmont nodded, "I trust you."

 

Einar nuzzled into Charmont's groin, rubbing his nose in the curly hair surrounding the younger man's cock before lightly taking the head into his mouth. Charmont's mind turned to white noise as he felt those gentle lips suck and slide along his length. When Einar pressed a slick finger into him this time, the burning stretch couldn't compete with the pleasure of Einar's warm mouth bobbing around his leaking cock and soon any discomfort faded as his body grew used to the intrusion. The cycle repeated itself as Einar added a second finger and Charmont tensed against the pressure. The older man continued to lavish attention on Charmont's cock until the young prince was panting and gripping at Einar's long hair. 

 

"Einar, oh, please, please, more." Charmont pleaded; the slick slide of the fingers inside him blended with the suction around his cock and when those long fingers bumped into something inside him, Charmont cried out and came in hot pulses down Einar's throat. 

 

Einar held still as the young prince spent himself into the warrior's mouth; moving only his throat to swallow down the salty and slightly bitter liquid. As Charmont came back down, he felt the slide of Einar's fingers once more and he pressed back against them. He dragged Einar up to press needy kisses into the other man's mouth.  The taste of himself lingered on Einar's lips and Charmont moaned at it. He wanted this man to take him completely. 

 

"I trust you," Charmont whispered, "please Einar."

 

Pulling out his fingers, Einar leaned back and oiled up his cock, leaking and red with need. Charmont whimpered and shuddered as the larger man positioned himself against the slicked and stretched entrance. With slow rocking movements, Einar eased his way into Charmont, gritting his teeth and watching his lovers face for any signs of discomfort. Charmont's eyes rolled into the back of his head as his soul mate slid into him with teasing slowness. All his anxiety about sex disappeared; the pleasure of feeling Einar settle within him flooding his body. Running his hands along Einar's chest and arms, Charmont basked in the gentle strength of his lover, his mate, his perfect match. He felt a tightness twist in his chest and tears filled his eyes. Einar reached down and cupped his hand around the young prince's cheek, wiping away the droplets from Charmont's eyelashes and skin. 

 

"I didn't think you existed," Charmont said, nuzzling his face against the older man's palm, "but you're real and I've never needed anyone the way I need you."

 

Einar slid his hand into Charmont's curls, pulling the younger man close and kissing him fervently. The action said all that Einar could not. With his cock buried in Charmont’s body, Einar kissed his soul mate and rocked further into the body beneath him. The cottage filled with the sound of their lovemaking; Charmont filling the space with moans and whimpers while Einar provided an occasional grunt or gasp. It wasn’t perfect; Einar occasionally slipping free as he lost the rhythm, and Charmont tugging on Einar’s hair made the older man pull away with a frown. It wasn’t perfect but it was theirs and Charmont didn’t want to forget a single moment. They forgave the mistakes because nothing could take away from the pleasure of their bonding. Charmont could feel his orgasm building again and he bit his lips to keep from spilling to quickly. He wanted to watch Einar fall apart above him; a wish granted soon thereafter as the larger man grunted and with a few rough thrusts, came deep and pulsing into Charmont. The feel of his lover spending inside him, coupled with the look of complete amazement on Einar’s face, pushed Charmont to the edge of his control. A large callused hand wrapped around his cock and Charmont came with a quiet whimper while gazing into Einar’s face. The two men stared at each other as they caught their breath. 

 

“That was-” Charmont started but faltered as he couldn’t find the words. 

 

Einar finished for him, tracing letters into Charmont’s cooling skin until the prince understood what he wanted to say.

 

_ Beautiful. _

 

Charmont nodded. “Yes, beautiful, just like you.”

 

Einar smiled and Charmont fell in love with the color of his lover’s blushing skin. With gentle movements, Einar pulled away, his cock slipping from Charmont’s body and leaving the younger man feeling empty. Using  a corner of the dust cover, Einar wiped away Charmont’s cum and then gathered the smaller man into his arms.

 

“If we can get to my kingdom, my parents will protect us,” Charmont said, sinking into Einar’s embrace, “I know they will be overjoyed that I’m soul marked after all.”

 

Einar pulled away and gave him a puzzled look. 

 

“I know,” Charmont explained, “I don’t have a visible one but I do have one.”

 

Bringing Einar’s hand up to his smooth chest, Charmont tapped his heart and gave his soul mate a smile. “You’re mark is here, inside.”

 

A blush flooded Einar’s face again and Charmont leaned up to press kisses to the warrior’s rosy cheeks. The kiss turned into a yawn and Einar drew the blankets over them. Fitting snug and warm against Einar’s chest, Charmont fell asleep and his last conscious memory was of strong arms around his waist and the press of a kiss to his temple. 

 


End file.
